Stolen Skin
by Kagura
Summary: With a loveless marriage fast approaching, Caspian decides to spend his last weeks of freedom by the ocean. What he finds there is his own fairytale. AU.


Hey everybody. I happen to love mythology, especially Greek mythology. The myth of Perseus and Andromeda is one of my favorite, and everyone knows of Hercules' twelve labors. Then there's Egypt, with the murder of Osiris at the hands of his brother Seth. To the ancient Norse, Thor was the red-headed god of thunder. These are all very famous myths, and they're often the inspirations for many awesome fanfics.

However, in my years as a reader, I've noticed that there's a lack of stories inspired by Irish myths, which is astounding to me. I think the Irish love myths are by far some of the most beautiful ever told. Sure, Tristan and Iseult recently got some time in the limelight thanks to the movie, but what about Finn and Sadbh? They had a tragic love story. However, the myth of Finn and Sadbh is not my inspiration for this story.

This story is inspired by the selkie.

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If somebody had been told that Caspian was a victim of ennui, they would've been incredibly surprised. The King was active and vivacious; a personable and able young man who made a fine ruler, and would someday make a fine husband. He was engaged to Ramandu's daughter, a golden-haired and radiant beauty. They'd fallen in love when he went on tour, which was common for male royalty. Young men of wealth and status would spend a year or two traveling the countryside and visiting foreign lands. Caspian was the only one brave enough to go sailing, for the prince felt that the ocean was his home. He assembled a fine crew and spent a year hopping from island to island. When he came back, he had a gorgeous fiancé who would bear him superior children.

In front of his friends and contemporaries, they were a happy, smiling and attractive young couple. They looked to be very much in love, always having quiet conversations as they walked side by side, hand in hand. But for all the infatuation that shone in their eyes, their engagement was growing longer and longer. There were no wedding talks or invitations being drawn up. Most people thought the fault was with Ramandu's daughter, for her youth and beauty lent her great power over the whims of all men. The truth was far more disheartening and juicy in term of gossip.

Caspian, within three months of coming home with his affianced, had very quickly grown bored with that gorgeous woman. There were no long rides in the sun, no more hunting parties, no adventures of any kind. It wasn't that his betrothed denied him those freedoms. She just wanted no part of them, something that broke Caspian's heart. He wanted to share everything with her, and she clearly didn't feel the same.

So when people started to whisper horrible things about the future queen, Caspian had a quiet conversation with her. _"I've worked hard all year. Just give me a few weeks alone." _ She consented without even a word of protest. It made Caspian fall even more out of love. _Come with me_, he wanted to scream at her. _Come with me so we can maybe find a way to at least like each other once again_. She just smiled and sent him on his way with a goodbye hug. Not even a kiss, just a formal hug that kept her an arm's length away.

He was happy for the sabbatical, short as it was going to be. Carrying nothing more than his sword, a knife, and a crossbow with a full quiver, he mounted his steed and rode for the shore. Once he arrived, he spent his first week hunting, fishing and swimming in the nude, just to prove to himself that he still could. There was no risk of voyeuristic opportunity. Nobody lived near the ocean.

All humans are social creatures, but Caspian was just fine with solitude. He didn't shave, he didn't bathe, and he certainly didn't bother dressing appropriately. After his naked spell, modesty dictated that he put on a pair of slacks, but nothing else – not even shoes.

Four weeks in, and his beard was almost epic. It was a very grey morning, cold and foggy. He'd been trying to rest in the low branches of a giant Madrone tree, off of the wet ground. But thoughts of his bride-to-be were consuming him. He'd tossed and turned the entire night, but eventually he gave up on sleep altogether.

"I don't love her anymore," he admitted to himself and Destrier as he stared up into the branches of the tree. It was spring, and each bough was heavy with clusters of small, white bell flowers. The broad green leaves sheltered him from the sun, but now they also blocked out any light whatsoever. Madrone trees had bark like orange paper that peeled away from the trunk, revealing the silvery smooth green flesh beneath it.

Destrier blustered and went back to mowing the grass beneath the tree with his teeth.

"I once loved her very much, when marriage wasn't even a word in my vocabulary." Much like the previous four weeks, he was wearing nothing but a pair of linen pants. His hair was long and dirty enough that it needed to be pulled back in a half ponytail. If his betrothed could see him then, she'd probably run away with a handkerchief pressed against her nose.

"We both believed in magic in the beginning. Being around her made the world brighter. But as soon as we got home… Everything turned black, at least for me." He scratched his beard with a slight smile. He was proud of the scruffy growth.

"It's not that I don't want to get or be married. I just don't want to be married to her, not anymore. We don't have enough in common to be happy forever." Hopping down from the large tree, Caspian brushed his hands over his chest, clearing away bits of dirt and twigs. Standing up, he could smell himself, which was disgusting.

Being in the sun naked for extended periods of time had darkened Caspian's skin. He'd always been predisposed to tanning, but now, after nearly a month, he was positively _brown_. However, it only added to his appeal (at least in his mind).

"Yet I can't turn her down now, not unless I meet someone else and get her pregnant. It would be unfair to her." Caspian trudged over to his horse, carefully sidestepping exposed rocks like some twinkle-toed dancer. The soles of his feet were bloody and cracked from past failed attempts.

"But what happens if I do the right thing and marry her, only to have an affair six months later? Both of our reputations will be irreparably destroyed." Destrier lifted his large head when his rider approached, and butted his nose against Caspian's hand as it stroked his forehead. The dark-haired man smiled.

"It was just you and me for the longest time. Now you're rarely a part of the equation. She only rides in carriages." Caspian leaned forward and pressed his nose against Destrier's throat. He smelled like warm sunshine on cool grass, and his fur was as smooth as crushed velvet. They were such good friends, that horse and his boy. Once upon a time, they thought nothing could come between them, least of all a woman. Caspian felt like he was being unfaithful to his charger, and it hurt more badly than he thought it would. Destrier wasn't just a horse. He was Caspian's best friend.

"I'm going for a swim now," he whispered as he unlaced Destrier's hackamore, freeing the horse's head so he could wander around comfortably. "Go graze, stomp on some mushrooms, whatever it is you do when I'm not around." With one gentle slap on the horse's hindquarters, Destrier clomped off with a whinny. Even without words, that neigh sounded like some secret joke.

Caspian gave a smile that was weak and in no way reached his eyes. Then again, it was hidden beneath his facial hair, so there was really no way to tell what it looked like. Groaning, he scratched his belly, which was trimmer and flatter than usual. Not eating regular meals could do that to a man.

The ocean was barely a mile away. All he had to do was walk briskly and he'd be there in fifteen minutes. But he wanted to take his time. He was going back to the castle in a week, where an unhappy marriage most likely awaited him.

There were no trails, but that was alright with him. The forest was beautiful in April. All of the trees were well suited for life near the ocean. Most of them were Madrone trees, but there were shore pines as well, which had needle-like leaves and branches that were twisted and bent from the wind. Most of them were small, barely bigger than Caspian, but some were nearly one-hundred feet tall. He even spotted one weeping willow, which was quite feminine compared to her other leafy neighbors. But for being so womanly, she was a hardy ocean dweller. Her sweeping, long branches swayed in the wind like they were dancing. Each vine-like bough was heavy with light green leaves and yellow flowers. At forty feet tall, she was very old but still so youthful

The air itself was so clean and vibrant. With no humans around, there were no smokehouses or cow fields, or anything that could clog the wind. Caspian could smell the ocean, salty without being acidic or pungent. There were so many flowers blooming that it was nearly impossible to pick out any one scent. It was like perfume without the burn of preserving fluids and alcohol. He'd always thought flowers to be sweet-smelling, but the air entering his nose was crisp and almost sharp. It was almost like a very light soap, or unsweetened tea. Each breath he took was so deep and even that he could taste everything.

Spending time away from civilization had turned Caspian into an almost primal being. He dug his feet into the cool ground with each step, just so he could feel the soft and waxy grass between his toes. As he walked around each tree, his eyes were wide open and directed at the canopy above him. There were red squirrels darting about with pine nuts stuffed in their cheeks. A mated pair of ospreys were tending their nest lovingly. He'd never even seen the grey birds of prey in person. Now they were the most beautiful thing he'd even seen.

Once the forest gave way to the beach, he was in no way disappointed. The sand there was white like snow, and the ocean was as blue as the sky on a clear day. He could see his footprints in the surf, the water was that pure. It was probably close to nine in the morning, since the sun was burning away the mist and the dew. Even Caspian's bones were beginning to warm up. It was exhilarating .

Out in the waves, he saw bottle-nose dolphins whistling and playing in the shoals. They clicked and splashed around, occasionally riding the waves close to shore. Caspian grinned broadly and waded in the surf to his ankles. It was low tide, and the beach had extended an additional twenty feet, revealing more snowy and perfect sand.

"I could spend my whole life by the sea," he said out loud. "In fact I think I have before, in some past life." Like a general inspecting his troops, Caspian surveyed his temporary kingdom. He took in the crystalline water, the gentle morning sunlight, every beast that swam and fly. After a month amongst them, he was as much as an animal as they were.

"I think I shall build myself a palace here," he announced to a small brown crab as it darted across the insteps of his feet. "My fiancé shall live at the Castle of Caspian, with whatever man she wants. I shall stay here, take a mistress and make love on the sand for the rest of my life." The little brown crab just scuttled off, keeping his opinion to himself. He followed the motto of 'if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.'

A heavy sigh escaped Caspian, but he wasn't worried about trying to restrain himself.

"I wish we at least had a pleasant sexual relationship. That woman is purer than the first snow of winter. I'm… not." It was true. Much as it sickened him, a few months earlier he'd slept with a servant. It was completely accidental though. She'd ambushed him in the bathtub and cleaned from head to toe with her mouth alone. What happened next was completely natural… except for the whip. She liked that whip too much.

The sea was simply too beautiful and musical to continue cluttering the beach with a self-indulgent monologue. He felt that a walk was in order, though he'd walked nearly everywhere within a six mile radius.

Plodding contentedly through the soft sand, anyone who saw Caspian would think he was some poor shipwrecked sailor. He was thin, dark and hairy, and he had a dopey look on his face. Black labs had that look. Black labs were also slobbery, and they had a tendency to bark very loudly.

At first, Caspian thought the noise he heard was a dog barking. It was the same deep-throated, repetitive woofing and growling. Baying hounds made that same sound, and they wanted nothing to do with the ocean. Then he heard splashing, like something was paddling around out. Dolphins weren't so noisy. Everything they did was seamless and smooth. They moved like knives through the water. Whatever was causing all that racket was bulkier and far from graceful.

Caspian started walking in the direction of the commotion. It was coming from a craggy outcropping of granite on the other side of the beach. The connection was easy to make for a sailor.

"Seals!" he cried out happily. Most sailors, no, _all_ sailors considered seals to be signs of good fortune. Part of it had to do with a tradition. If there were seals in the harbor as a ship left port, the seas would be favorable. But seals were also reliable lighthouses, so to speak. Unlike most sea creatures, they did not permanently live the ocean. So if seals could be seen, it usually meant that ice and rocks were nearby. To find land, just follow the seals.

Besides, Caspian hated to admit it, but he found them very sweet. Not wanting to scare them off, he didn't run. Only girls ran to see cute animals. He was just walked steadily towards the rocks, scaling them with his weathered, calloused hands. A particularly shrill bark pierced his ears, and he almost lost his hold. A quick reaction time was the only thing that kept him from falling.

Huffing and puffing (he hadn't eaten anything, after all), Caspian pulled himself over the tallest boulder. What he saw was thrilling.

There, playing in a natural harbor created by the rocks, was a pod of Weddell seals. They were like fat and happy kittens, with bigger teeth of course. Their cat-like appearance was due to their up turned smiles and short mouth lines. They had brown fur with silvery spots.

Beaming, Caspian treaded over to a smooth patch of rock just to his left and took a seat. He tucked his feet beneath, and just watched those plump balls of fur act like fools. Seeing them teeter around on land with those ridiculously small flippers was absolutely adorable.

He couldn't tell the difference between the females and the males. They were all just seals to him. But in his mind, they were all females. Males would be more dignified. They wouldn't bark, they'd growl. They wouldn't swim around aimlessly, they'd be hunting sea turtles.

Eventually, they stopped being charming and started being seals again. Really, they weren't doing much. They were swimming and relaxing in the sun. Maybe it was because there was no one there to share the moment with, but it was kind of boring. They were just animals, and he was wasting his morning. He was hungry to boot. If seals didn't taste so bad, he'd be tempted to hunt them.

And so, with pheasants in mind, he'd turned around and started surveying the rocks for the easiest way down. In the background, he heard splashing, feminine laughter, barking and water being dashed on the rocks. Really, seals were pointless creatures. They were cute though.

Something was off. Caspian paused, staring at the sand with an arched brow. He was missing something. Whatever it was, it was important. It was out of the ordinary, and it didn't quite belong. But he'd been out in the wild for weeks now. He was the one out of the ordinary.

But then it happened again. The something that didn't make sense was back and making itself known. Caspian stood stock still. Even his fingers were locked tightly.

The sun was warm, normal. The ocean smelled like salt, also normal. Wind was blowing through the trees, normal again. The seals were going 'arf arf' and giggling. This was normal too. Off in the distance he could see a doe grazing on some flowers blooming amongst the dune grass. Deer were normal. He smelled like the side of a cow's stomach. Unfortunate, but normal considering the circumstances.

All of a sudden it hit him.

Seals don't laugh like women.

_Women_ laugh like women.

Caspian spun on his heel and looked down at the harbor. There were only seals in the water. They had seal noses, seal eyes, seal mouths… no breasts or behinds or hips. But on the rocks was a dark patch, like a patch of moss or a carpet. Or maybe a fur rug.

It was fur, seal's fur. That fur was dark grey with white spots, but it was just flat. It definitely wasn't attached to a body. There were no bones and definitely no limbs. It was someone had eaten the seal and left the main trophy behind. Killing a seal for its pelt was atrocious. Leaving the pelt behind was stupid.

He couldn't see anything amongst those rocks – no footprints or clothing or tools, nothing. Everything was normal except for that fur.

"One of these things is not like the others," he whispered as he crouched down. The pelt was splayed on the only smooth, clean patch of rock near the water's edge. It couldn't have appeared there by magic… could it have?

Looking around the area, he realized that whoever had left the pelt there couldn't have come from the forest. It took him forever just to climb up those stupid rocks. So he looked to the waves. Maybe there was a fisherman nearby, and maybe his wife was there. And maybe she was a championship swimmer. Maybe her husband didn't need a boat to fish. Maybe the fish just came to him. Maybe it was his special power.

There were too many maybes for any of that to make sense. But that pelt didn't make sense, so he just watched it carefully. It was cradled on every side by large and nearly impossible to climb rocks. There was a cliff behind it. Some water had gathered in the cracks and dips, and they were green and dead with algae. As he looked at the fur, he realized it too big to belong to any Weddell Seal. But it was spotted, so it probably belonged to a leopard seal. Leopard Seals were vicious and solitary. There was a million to one chance of watching a Leopard Seal play around with Weddell Seals. And it was probably a dead Leopard Seal at that. Leopared Seals did not die at the flippers of Weddell Seals. They ate Weddell Seals.

So, he wasn't overly surprised when a naked woman popped out of the water like a bubble. A leopard seal would've been more surprising. Then he realized that she was naked _and_ shapely, which was very shocking (and downright arousing).

She floated in the water like a sexy buoy, her high, perfect breasts barely covered by the water's surface. Her shoulders were slim and elegant, her neck was long, and her head was small. Not freakishly small, not at all. Small in the sense that she was perfectly proportioned. She was very tan. Probably from the sun, because there was a pink undertone, meaning she would look just as pretty pale. Her hair was long, dark and it clung to her neck and face. And what a face! She was very pretty at best, but youth and health gave her tight skin that fit her chin and cheekbones like a glove. Although her mouth was the same shade as her skin because of the sun, it curved up and was shaped like a satin bow.

"Either I haven't got laid in a long time, or an expertly shaped woman is swimming with some seals." But then she pulled herself up onto the rocks, and he got a very clear view that possibly proved he was insane.

Her body was _hard_. Or maybe he just was. Well, he was definitely hard, but that was beside the point.

Every inch of her, besides that excellent chest, was lean and muscled. Her stomach was cleanly modeled, all dips and hollows that he could just imagine tracing with his tongue (yeah, he seriously needed to get laid). Her legs were long, but not too thin. They had some meat on them, the kind a man could hold onto – all muscle of course. Very few women had a rear end like hers. It was so round and high.

Long ago, when he was still a boy, one of his personal guards had a brother who was quite possibly cracked. If he wasn't, he was certainly an alcoholic. But one night, when he snuck off to drink with the guards, that brother started ranting and raving about the woman who awoke his sexual desires. In the first telling, she was a blue water nymph, whereas in the second she was a pale mermaid. But in both versions, she emerged from the ocean, naked, athletic and womanly. _"Of course a mermaid would be muscular! They spend the entire day diving to the bottom of the ocean! Fat people __**float**__!"_

"Fat people do float," he whispered to himself. The woman he lost his virginity to was a floater.

Then she walked over to the pelt on the tips of her toes, and very slowly laid down on it, her back to the rock. She straightened those young legs one by one, taking her flex to arch her feet downwards. Even her instep was arched and curvy. To top it all off, she was uniformly tan from head to toe and hairless, save for a perfect triangle between her legs.

He found that he wanted to know if her inner thighs were soft. They probably were. She looked soft in spite of all her trimness. Caspian imagined that he would be quite comfortable laying on top of her.

A thought crossed his mind, as unexpected and surprising as the naked woman in the water. He was about to be married to a woman who was no longer luminous and physically attractive to him. This could be his last hoorah, his way out. A mermaid would make a fine wife, and their babies would probably be gorgeous.

"Why shouldn't I? I could make her happy," he hissed when she arched her back towards the sky. She appeared to be having a very lusty dream. "You are the color of warm milk with a hint, _just _a hint of chocolate."

He loved milk with chocolate. He also wasn't thinking clearly. This naked woman was either a figment of his imagination or a mermaid, or some other fierce creature. She could've been a dark specter cursed on him by an enemy. None of this could've been real!

But if it was a figment of his imagination, then having sex with it would just be a wet dream.

That was the deal breaker.

Slowly, cautiously, he started the treacherous climb down to the rock where she was sunning herself. A good portion of the trip was spent sliding down on his butt. If this had been one of his naked days, his ass would've been chapped and bleeding. That's not the best way to meet a woman. The last few yards, he simply hopped from rock to rock. Men were stupid that way. He looked like a rabbit springing through the grass.

She was even prettier, and somehow even more undressed up close. Whoever she was, she really didn't look supernatural. She wasn't glowing and she didn't have scales. No horns, no claws, just a naked woman. But it was rather like a fairytale.

There was an old Telmarine legend, the myth of the settling of Telmar and the domestication of horses. The first true king of Telmar was no king at all. He was a pirate, a fierce one at that. Raping and pillaging were two of his specialties. In spite of his unsavory actions, he was a fine seafarer, but no captain could save his ship when the heartless sea was set against it. A hurricane destroyed his vessel, taking all of his men with it to the bottom of the sea. He alone survived, and was washed ashore.

When he awoke, dazed and dying, a tall woman was there. She was naked save for a seal pelt wrapped around her waist. Her hair swung down to her hips, black and curly and alluring. _"Will you marry me?"_ he asked her. _"No, for you have no skills and nothing to offer me,"_ she told him._ "But, because I pity you, I will teach you how to tame horses. Come now, for we have much to learn."_

"_Tell me your name."_

"_You will call me Silk."_

Caspian stared at his sleeping beauty, enthralled that she was so comfortable in her nudity. She was like him, only female!

He carefully tiptoed over to her, even though the crashing waves and barking seals masked any noise he made. Subterfuge seemed to be the best course of action.

This near to her, he could see no discernable cut marks on the pelt. Seals molted yearly, but never their entire skin. She must've been a fine hunter.

"Excuse me, miss," he said politely. Being a gentleman was competing with subterfuge at this point. She moaned unhappily, slinging an arm over her eyes. Her underarms were hairless. Fantastic!

"Pardon me, but I really think we should have sex." Grinning, he fell to his knees at her side, leaning over her. Seeing her from this angle confirmed his suspicions that being on top would at least be like looking at fine art. "Seeing as we're both naked, well, almost naked, it would be remarkably easy. And quick if you'd like, although I'm known for being slow and thorough."

She arched her back again, thrusting those perfect breasts into the air. He imagined that they would fit perfectly in his hands. It wouldn't be like some women, who needed a thorough searching just to prove they weren't prepubescent boys.

"Shall I call you Silk?" he annunciated clearly, reaching out with one broad hand to caress her perfect cheek. His fingertips fluttered over her stubborn chin, proving that she was real and warm to the touch. She exhaled through her nose and slapped his hand away. When she opened her mouth, he fully expected her to bark or howl, but she had a very sweet voice.

"Go away, seal, I'm done playing for the day."

"Yes, well, it wouldn't have to be playful. We could be quite serious about the whole affair. I could try. Are you as soft as silk?"

In the blink of an eye, her hands were on his chest and pushing him away. With more strength and speed than he thought possible, she threw him to the side and ran for the water. He got one look at her derriere before it disappeared. She dove smoothly into the waves and was gone.

"Wait! I'll make you dinner first!" he cried as he jumped to his feet. Caspian ran to the water's edge, but she had disappeared. In the crystal clear water she would've been plainly visible. "Come back sylph! I only have a week before I marry a witch!"

Caspian sighed. He began to wonder if he'd imagined the whole thing, but then, dejected, he turned around. The pelt was still there.

"Well, at least I won't be going home empty handed," he lamented as he scooped it up. It was very soft, but rubbery. It had to be, he supposed, otherwise water wouldn't run off of it.

"Maybe she'll turn up again. Either way, I'm going home warmer."

In the water, the seals kept playing, maybe with his Silk.

"I think I'm forgetting part of that legend," he said as he started the arduous climb back to his Madrone tree. And he was right about that legend.

He'd forgotten that Silk was bound to land without her precious pelt.

* * *

What a cute and nifty one-shot!

Okay, it's not a one-shot, but it sure as hell is going to get the same amount of effort after today!

Alright, that's not true.

This story will be exactly nine chapters long. Seven chapters, a prologue and an epilogue. One chapter for each remaining day of Caspian's vacation, plus a beginning and an ending, of course.

Review!


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